Part 12
SkyHold
"I suppose it really was for the best. He and I have been drifting apart for a while," Astlyr sighed, letting her shoulders slump.
She was seated across from Dorian in a library alcove. The two were enjoying a quiet breakfast and trying to keep the subjects of conversation light. Astlyr wasn't certain if yesterday's breakup with Iron Bull counted as 'light', but she didn't shy from the subject when her mage friend had asked. He had seen Iron Bull in the infirmary when he went to have his bandages changed and said that the big qunari had been looking rather glum. Astlyr took some solace in this, though if she was honest, she was not tremendously broken up over the loss. It still hurt, like a splinter, stinging every now and again to remind her it was still there, under her skin.
"You told me you'd never been in love," Dorian said, taking a bite of a warm piece of oatbread slathered in honey.
"Maker, Dorian, I thought we were keeping the subject light," she reached with her foot and tapped his.
"M'gel, we almost saw the end of the world. This is as light as it gets," he smirked, wiping honey from his mustache with a delicate motion. When Dorian was acting refined Astlyr often felt like she had just tumbled out of a pig sty. She absently dusted the front of her shirt, which was covered in crumbs, while his robes were immaculate.
"Alright, so love then. You've never been either," she pointed out, smirking.
"In my defense I had thought I was a few times. Infatuations when I was young. A handsome serving lad or two. Dalliance behind the garden shed. Very seedy. Just the sort of thing to drive my father insane," he grinned, his eyes sparkling.
"Did you do it to drive your father insane?" Astlyr questioned, selecting another pastry from the basket she had brought up from the kitchen. She passed one to her friend, as she knew it hurt him to bend down. He was not fully recovered from his injuries either.
"Well, that and companionship. You have no idea how empty and lonesome one of those big Tevinter houses can get."
"I suppose not," Astlyr said, thinking of the small, cozy cottage where she had grown up.
"Go one then," Dorian was giving her a wolfish grin, "your seediest experience. Put me to shame!"
"You have an odd notion of my life before I came here," Astlyr said, eyebrow raised.
"I know you've had a few," he pressed, still grinning like a mad cat.
"Alright, fine," she cast her eyes upward in thought. "While I was working as a mercenary there was this dwarf who fancied himself a Casanova."
"Intriguing," Dorian leaned forward slightly, resting chin on hands.
"He decided to set his sights on me. He'd never been with a qunari before."
"Did he attempt to woo you?" Dorian raised pressed, impishly.
"Hah!" Astlyr's laugh was so loud that several other people studying nearby looked up and glared. Then they realized who she was and they hurriedly dipped their heads back over their books. "He walked right up to me and asked, ' hey Adaar, wanna shag?'"
It was Dorian's turn for a laugh of inappropriate volume. "And your reply?"
"Alright," she quoted, her eyes watering with mirth as they both hooted with laughter.
"Oh Maker, ouch," Dorian grimaced holding his ribs. "Don't make me laugh so hard!"
"I'm sorry," she grinned, holding her own sides.
"No, you are not," the mage chortled, massaging his side ruefully, "but I did ask."
"You're right. You brought this on yourself," she chuckled, bumping his foot again with hers. Her legs were long enough to easily span the space between their chairs for such a gesture. "Do you have your eyes on anyone here at Skyhold?" she asked her friend, refreshing the milk in both their glasses from a pitcher.
Dorian considered for a long moment. "Not for true love, if that's what you're asking," he smirked.
"For a seedy dalliance then?' she asked.
"That new templar fellow seems nice enough," Dorian said, his tone slightly softer, with a note of seriousness.
"The one that came in yesterday?" Astlyr questioned, "I didn't know you'd met him."
"I happened to be getting my bandages changed when he was brought to the infirmary, and let me tell you, by the way he was admiring my well sculpted bare chest, he knows a man of breeding when he sees one."
"You caught him staring?" Astlyr snickered.
"I did," Dorian puffed himself up a bit, then winced, slouching back down to a more comfortable position.
"Well, I can tell you that man must be the Maker's own saint to handle the mages he came in with," Astlyr said.
"Troublesome were they?"
"I'd have gone crazy trying to lead them to Skyhold. Did you get a chance to speak with your admirer?"
"A bit. I chatted to him while they finished up my bandages, and I stayed as they fixed him up. Mostly he was exhausted, however, and needed sleep, poor lad." Dorian smiled. "His name is Titus and he's from the Markham circle. Nasty business what happened there, by the sound of it."
"Do you suppose that happened a lot?" Astlyr questioned. "The mages who didn't want the rebellion to succeed turning on their fellows?"
"I imagine it did," Dorian nodded a little sadly.
Astlyr met her friend's eyes, "I know the rebellion was already well on its way to freeing the mages and disbanding the circles, and I was only the final nail in the coffin, but...do you think I made the right choice?"
"I'm hardly the person to ask," Dorian shrugged. "In Tevinter we don't have circles like you do. I know how Madame Vivienne feels about it."
"She was never exactly pleased about it," Astlyr said with a wry half smile. "I don't know if she would have turned on her fellow circle mages, given the chance."
"I can't see her doing that," Dorian said, settling back in his chair. "Too messy."
"I suppose," Astlyr chuckled dryly.
"Inquisitor, here you are," Josephine walked up to them, writing board clasped in her hands, all business. "I had a few things I needed to discuss with you."
Astlyr gestured to a pile of pillows beside the window in the library nook, "you're welcome to join us. We're having breakfast, have you eaten?"
"Er...no, but-" Josie looked uncomfortable, glancing from the qunari to the mage and back.
"Oh stop torturing the poor dear," Dorian said, rising slowly from his chair. "Here, take mine."
"Sit," Astlyr commanded her friend. "If you try to sit down on those pillows you'll never be able to get back up again." The qunari stood, gesturing that the diplomat should take her chair. "I trust you don't have anything to report that Dorian can't hear?"
The scholarly woman considered for a moment, then smiled, shaking her head. She gingerly sat down in Astlyr's abandoned chair. "No, I do not believe so. I imagine the inner circle will all be informed eventually. I wanted to come to you first, of course, as at least one of these matters pertains to you personally."
"Alright," Astlyr held the jug of milk up to Dorian who chilled it with an ice spell before Astlyr poured some into a cup for Josie. "What's going on in that big, wide world that pertains to me?" she asked, though she suspected she knew. Those two knights from the queen were still hanging around like a bad cold you couldn't seem to get out of your system.
"Well, the first matter is more broad," Josephine explained, scanning her papers intently. "I have received reports that several major slave markets in Tevinter have been raided. These raids have resulted in the freeing of hundreds of slaves, as well as a large loss of life on the part of slavers, guards and auction attendees."
"Hundreds of slaves freed?" Astlyr raised an eyebrow. "Elvish slaves?"
"A majority were, I imagine," Dorian answered. "We do keep human slaves in Tevinter, but usually its elves. Smaller. Easier to control."
"Charming," Josephine muttered.
"I never said I was in favor," Dorian put in quickly. "I was raised primarily by a slave woman, and after knowing her, I would never think imposing slavery on another was a good idea."
Astlry reached over and gave Dorian's knee a squeeze, "I know. Don't worry. I never figured you for the slave owning type."
"I really don't fit in Tevinter at all," he mused, giving her a sad smile.
Astlyr turned back to Josephine, "is Tevinter requesting aid from the Inquisition?"
Dorian made a sound that was half laugh half snort, "Not likely."
"No, they are not," Josephine affirmed. "They wish to keep the matter internal. We have no evidence, other than the attacks involved freeing a large number of elves, that this had anything to do with the movements of these 'eleven gods', but our spies thought it worthy of our attention none the less."
"They were right to bring it up," Astlyr nodded. "We should keep an eye out for any odd behavior from our nearby Dalish tribes as well. And let's continue to get updates on Tevinter slave issues. I'd like to see if this progresses."
"Of course," Josephine made several notes with quick motions, the feather plume of her pen flouncing back and forth.
"Well, that was easy. I think I like being the Inquisitor today," Astlyr grinned at her friends. "Alright, Josie, hit me with the other subject that needed my attention."
"Now we must discuss the information that those knights from the queen wished to impart," the diplomat said, and she selected several papers from her stack. A few of the papers were small, curled slips having clearly been tied to the legs of messenger birds. These kept trying to roll away and Dorian finally offered to hold a few between bouts of chuckling.
Astlyr slouched on the pillows, feeling a creeping annoyance at the remembrance of the self important envoy. Still, she knew that Josie would have thoroughly vetted their tidings and brought only what mattered to her leader. She also felt a spike of curiosity in her mind. Previously it seemed that the royal couple had little care for what they did at Skyhold, so long as the rifts got closed and threats got dealt with. "Am I in trouble?" Astlyr asked.
Josephine smiled, "not exactly. The queen wishes to gift you with an arling. Or rather, she means to make Skyhold and the surrounding area a new arling and you're to rule it, as arlessa and Inquisitor."
Dorian choked on his milk. Astlyr laughed too loudly again and several people stood up and left with annoyed muttering. "Arlessa Astlyr Adaar?" Dorian sputtered, wiping milk from his chin.
"Cole could appreciate the alliteration," Astlyr pointed out, dabbing a tear of laughter from her eye with her knuckle. "Seriously, Josie. She really wants to do that?"
"Of course," Josephine, for her part, was looking confused and a little annoyed that her news was met with such amusement. "I have also had word from the Divine Victoria," she pressed on.
"Oh, Lelianna, what does she have to say," Astlyr tried to straighten her face, to little avail.
"She got word of the queens plans. I'm not certain how, but I suspect her network of spies is as active as ever," Josephine explained, she unrolled one of the tiny bits of parchment. "She informs us that the queen intended to merely make you a bann, but that would place you under the jurisdiction of the Arl of Redcliff."
"Wait, this isn't a joke? The queen really wants to slap a title on me? Inquisitor and resident qunari badass isn't enough for her?"
"Seemingly not," Josie took Astlyr's glibness in stride. She had plenty of experience dealing with it. "Lelianna convinced the queen to move the rank up to arl, and to declare the area around Skyhold a new arling."
"Won't that rub a few people the wrong way?" Astlyr raised an eyebrow. "I'm not much for this politics business, but don't people live here in the Frostbacks, and might they mind if I am suddenly arling it over them?" Dorian made another choking laugh at her use of arling as a verb. She shot him an appreciative glance.
Josie looked as though she was regretting allowing the mage to stay and listen to their conversation. She aimed a glare at him, then doggedly continued. "The native people are called the Avvar. You met a few of them, I believe. Very tribal. One of them threw a goat at our walls."
"I remember him!" Astlyr sat up slightly as the memory came to her. "Decent man, when he wasn't hurling livestock. As I recall I send him to fight Tevinter."
"Indeed," Josephine nodded, marking something with her pen. "At the present time, we at Skyhold have an army sufficient to quash any rumblings from the Avvar tribes on the mountain. And I suspect your rule as arlessa will not be terribly strict. I doubt many of them will notice the difference."
"I don't want to quash anyone," Astlyr said, starting to feel annoyed. "Why is Queen Anora doing this? What's her end game?"
"Control, I expect," Dorian supplied. "If she gives you a proper title, then you fall under her rule and she can have some say in what you do."
"I also suspect it has something to do with keeping Skyhold in Ferelden control in the future," Josephine added, pen poised mid scribble. "I imagine she does not expect you to produce an heir."
"Well that's presumptuous," Dorian scoffed.
"I suppose it makes sense," Astlyr sighed. "I've only met one qunari I wasn't related to, and I just broke it off with him, though the queen could hardly know that." If she was honest, she had no idea if she could breed with other species. Both her patents had been of the qunari race, so she had always assumed she could only reproduce with one of her own kind.
"You and Iron Bull?" Josie looked up, her liquid brown eyes suddenly filled with sympathy.
"In this instance, I'd rather we go back to talking about politics," Astlyr said, and her expression must have been severe enough to coax the diplomat back from the relationship conversation precipice.
"Right," Josephine wrinkled her delicate nose, as though still baffled by the news of her leader's recent breakup. "Erm..." she seemed to have lost her thread and she glanced down at her notes. Astlyr idly wondered if the woman kept a transcript of every conversation she she heard. Perhaps later Astlyr would convince Cole to borrow Josie's writing board. "Yes. An heir. She suspects you are unlikely to produce an heir. If you remain merely an inquisitor, you may choose your successor, if there is a need for one. How long do qunari live?"
"I'm not sure," Astlyr admitted. "My parents both died of an illness."
Josephine clucked her tongue in brief sympathy for Astlyr deceased family, then continued, "if you were an arl, then things get muddy. The queen could have a great deal of say in who your successor might be."
"Right," Astlyr rubbed the back of her neck. "So...is this arl thing something we want?"
"Well," Josephine said, considering. "The Inquisition was born of war, and while we are currently offering a service to the people in the area, it is uncertain how much longer such a military installment will be necessary."
"But I could go back to being a nobody after this?" Astlyr questioned, suddenly struck with a tempting thought. "I could go back to my old life?"
"You, M'gel, will never be a nobody again," Dorian assured her, and there was such sincerity in his voice that Astlyr felt her heart tug.
"I do not know what is in store for the Inquisition," Josephine met Astlyr's eyes. "The stability of a title may grant us the ability to remain, and to continue to do good for the people here. Not to mention keep control over a very tactically placed military installment, should Orlais ever attempt to move eastward."
"True," Astlyr pondered, casting her eyes towards the ceiling. She shook her head as though trying to shake off a pesky fly, "this is too strange. Can you see me as an arlessa? Some stuffy, overdressed lady? I don't think so, Josie."
Dorian sat forward, a clever look flashing in his eyes. "Reply to the queen. Tell her Astlyr won't take anything less than the title of Teyrn."
"The female version is Teyrna," Josie corrected him. She was smiling broadly and already writing.
"Wait, wait, what is going on?" Astlyr raised her hands.
"You're demanding the highest state of lord-hood besides declaring yourself queen," Dorian smirked. "It'll rankle the Anora to no end. If she does give it to you, which she won't, you'll have a lot more control and she'll have less say in what you do, and even whom you chose as your successor."
"But she won't give it to me," Astlyr stated rather than asked.
"It is highly unlikely," Josephine reassured her.
"Well, alright then," Astlyr shrugged, feeling baffled, but somehow accomplished. "Maybe I'm not so bad at these politics after all. If this did work I could go from peasant to high ranking lady in no time," she smirked.
"You stopped being a peasant the day you hoisted that cracking great sword over your head in front of everyone in Skyhold," Dorian pointed out. "You remember. They all cheered. You got your very first title, that of Inquisitor; and the rest is history."
"Really strange history," Astlyr chuckled. "Did you need me for anything more Josie?"
"No," the woman shook her dark curls, still grinning. Adorable dimples formed on her cheeks when she smiled. "I shall inform Sers Roderkick and Oswyn of your decision and send them on their way."
"Alright then, you two. I best be off. I have important Inquisitor tasks to perform." Astlyr rose, straightening her tunic as though it were a uniform.
"Fixing privies?" Dorian asked, reaching for a nearby book.
"People need privies," she shrugged expressively. "Thanks for the talk, Dorian," she said, resting a hand on his shoulder.
He covered her hand with his and gave her fingers a gentle squeeze, "any time you need to talk to someone about your past exploits, I'm your man."
Josephine looked up for a moment, then shook her head and went back to her work without comment. Astlyr turned to her diplomat friend, "always a pleasure, Josie. Keep me apprized of my lordly status."
Josephine looked ready to correct Astlyr on her use of the term 'lord', but seemingly again decided it was not worth the trouble. She smiled brightly instead, "I will."
Astlyr made her way down from the library and out into the open, snowy courtyard of Skyhold. The snow was mostly trodden down and well shoveled. Sand and straw had been spread to keep traction in icy places. Astlyr looked her fortress over with a pleased expression. It felt like the place was really coming together at last. What a pity it waited until the war was over to do it. Above her the Inquisition banners flapped in the cold winter breeze, from which she was protected by the high stones of her home.
Nearby she could hear the horses nattering to one another in their rumbling horse speech. She pondered stopping to visit Smoke and give him some attention, but she was expected to meet the building and repair team soon, so she decided to make her way towards the forge. Then she spotted him. A lonesome, slender figure with an overlarge hat. Cole's head was tipped back, his eyes closed. He was standing near an internal wall and swaying slowly.
She walked over to her friend, watching him for a long moment. He didn't seem to be in distress, but she had never seen him look quite this way before. "Are you alright?" she finally asked, keeping her voice soft.
The spirit boy blinked his pale eyes open, turning his baleful glance to her. Even though she was used to Cole's constant look of profound sadness, it still sometimes caught her by surprise. She bit back a worried comment, instead letting him answer her. "I am listening to Morrigan," he said, shaking his blond hair down over his eyes, his hat flopping.
"Anything new?" she asked, hands on her hips. She stared at the wall, which she guessed the mage must be on the other side of, as if she might see through it if she tried hard enough.
"It's still crowded," Cole admitted. "I can catch bits. Fleeting like footprints in the falling snow. Yellow eyes that see what I cannot see in her. I want to go nearer, creep closer in her mind, but the other voices shut me out. I am unwelcome."
"So nothing new then?" Astlyr felt her lips twitch in a smile.
"No," Cole answered, clearly sensing she thought his answer somehow humorous, though he did not understand why. "I will keep trying."
"Is it hard on you?" Astlyr questioned. "To have to focus on one person's pain?"
"I take breaks," the boy admitted, looking down at his pale hands. They looked so cold, ungloved as they were. Astlyr had to remind herself again that he did not feel the temperature. She resisted the urge to try to warm them. He tilted his head to the side, watching her suddenly. "You are sad," he pointed out.
"I expect I am. Most people are sad at least some of the time." She shrugged.
"I thought he loved me. Thought I was finally wanted, but it wasn't true. Cut adrift again, like always. I am an amusement, not a person. I please them and then they grow weary of me. I miss the way he would make me feel. How she would run his tongue-"
"Whoa, Cole!" Astlyr stopped him, clamping her hand over his mouth, "sweet heart, no! I have told you about describing people's sex lives out loud. People...really don't like it." she took her hand away and he looked contrite.
"I'm sorry."
"It's alright," she said unable to keep her lips from twitching in a thin smile. "I imagine you know that Iron Bull and I are no longer together."
"You were growing apart from him," Cole said, his tone as level as ever. "You are sad that you and he do not mean the same as you did before. He still loves you, but not in the way you want to be loved."
"That's true," she admitted, wondering if she should leave this conversation before it strayed back into embarrassing territory. Her time with Iron Bull had been...intense and highly sexual.
"You want someone who loves your mind," Cole pointed out.
"I suppose I do," she gave him a wan look. "I have no idea who that person is. I hope I find him before I get too old and look even more terrifying than I already do." she chuckled.
"Cullen wants to kiss you."
"What?" she spluttered out the word and a passing workman looked up. She gave him a glare and he hurried on his way, head down.
"Cullen wants to kiss you," Cole repeated as though she had not heard him. "But he is afraid. He doesn't usually like women who are taller than him. You intimidate him."
"Oh really?" she raised an eyebrow.
"I don't understand why people care so much about height," Cole admitted, looking at her with his pale eyes. He could look so young some times, she thought. "Varric is the shortest of all, and everyone likes him."
"This is true," Astlyr nodded.
"I like that you're tall," the boy pressed on, and was it her imagination or did he look a bit less depressed? "It means you're strong. Strong arms fold around me, carry me. Make the pain less. She guides, guards, grows in greatness. We need s strong leader, they said, and then she was there and she was better than what they wanted."
She felt herself blush at the praise. "I suppose that is also true. Thank you for the information, Cole. And if Cullen wants to kiss me, well he can just get over himself first," she smirked.
Cole seemed confused by this statement. "I could make him forget that he cares about height," he said, though his tone was tentative, as though he knew the answer he would receive.
"No, Cole. He needs to come around to it himself, if he ever does."
"You like him too," Cole pointed out, earnestly.
"I do," she nodded, pondering her interactions with the human. "He's a good warrior with a brilliant military mind."
"And he's kind."
"Kind?"
"You like that's he's kind. It matters to you because you like people. Cassandra thinks you're too inclined to like people. You wish Cullen would show his more," Cole said, picking some dirt from under a finger nail absentmindedly.
"How is it you know my mind better than I know it myself?" she asked, her eyes wrinkling at the corners as she smiled fondly down at the boy.
"Most people don't know their own minds. That's why I help," he answered. "I like that kind of helping best. Help people to see what they didn't know they knew."
"I think you're at your best when you help like that," Astlyr confirmed, smiling. Then she looked back at the wall. "Are you going to keep listening to Morrigan?"
"No," Cole shook his head. "I have been listening all morning. I am going to go speak with Fen'Harel for a while."
"Fen," she reminded the spirit. "Call him Fen."
"Yes," Cole nodded, looking distant. "I need to discuss...something with Fen."
"Alright," Astlyr tilted her head. "You'd know, wouldn't you, if he was trying to take control of you, or something sinister?"
"Of course," Cole answered, his hand straying to touch the amulet he wore. "I go to him because he was Solas, and Solas was my friend. He was helping me understand myself. I still don't understand completely, so I want to see him again, and talk with him."
Astlyr had a thought, "When Solas left without saying goodbye, were you afraid, Cole? Afraid that you would never completely understand yourself?"
His shoulders stiffened, "My pain doesn't matter."
"Of course it does," Astlyr said, gently, reaching out and touching his slim arm. It even felt like the arm of a teenage boy. Boney, with true muscle beginning to form. Would he remain like this forever? Never growing older? She suspected he would. She wondered what sort of man the original Cole would have become before he had been left to die in the dark.
"I was afraid," Cole admitted. "I thought of returning to the Fade, but I stayed. I stayed because I knew I was safe. Because I knew I had you."
It suddenly felt as though he had punched her in the sternum. So much trust all heaped on her. Most of the time she was able not to think about it. How much trust her men put in her. How little she felt she deserved it. She had literally been lucked into the position of Inquisitor. Stumbling in on a blood ritual where she was never even supposed to be. Because of a mark on her hand she was put in charge. Because of religious beliefs that she didn't even share, she was elevated in people's minds.
"Because of your actions, your friends follow you," Cole cut into her thoughts midstream as though he had been listening along. She supposed he had.
She closed her eyes, taking a moment to feel the winter sun on her face. Warm, even in the midst of all the snow. She breathed a few cleansing breaths, feeling the icy air fill her lungs. It was surprisingly refreshing. When he opened her eyes Cole was still standing before her, wringing his hands, as he sometimes did when he was agitated. "I'm sorry," he said, and he sounded it. "I can make you forget," he reached up towards her.
She caught his hand before it reached her, "no no, Cole. Thank you."
"I can make you forget just the feeling. Just the being overwhelmed," he offered again, though he did not try to free his hand from her grip.
She gave this some consideration. It would be nice to have this clawing anxiety out of her head before she went about her day. She knew from seeing Cole work that his magics could be very noninvasive when he wanted. He could merely tip a scale. Start someone down the path of healing. She met his gaze for a long moment, then nodded slowly. She wasn't certain if she had ever been 'helped' by Cole in this way before. Had he ever made her forget without her knowing? Before the two of them were close friends? Before she could always see him?
Her hand fell away from his, and his fingers found her jaw, resting there with the lightness of a morning breeze. "I will be gentle," he reassured her. There was a rush in her mind. A moment when all her thoughts became jumbled into a tight knot, then suddenly loosened into a thousand separate strands again. He took his hand away, giving her a wan smile. "I didn't take much," he reassured her. "Just enough to help you."
If she was honest she didn't feel all that different, but as she thought she knew that a certain, cloying stress was lifted from her. She still felt a bit uncertain about her worthiness and her people's loyalty, but it no longer weighed on her shoulders like a massive stone. She smiled at Cole. "Thank you. I wish I could make you feel better too."
"You do," he smiled back at her in the most genuine way he knew, which at best made him look like he wasn't about to burst into tears. "Now I must go. I have only a short time before I must listen to Morrigan again."
"Thank you, Cole," she said before he could teleport away.
"Thank you-" he said, in that earnestly genuine way he always had of thanking anyone. As if she had just saved his life, "for letting me help." Then he was gone, leaving behind only a puff of cool air and his memory.
Astlyr smiled and shook her head, beginning her walk toward the forge once again, certain that her building team had given her up and gone about their tasks without her. Instead she found them still gathered and speaking together in urgent voices. They looked up as she entered and hurriedly enfolded her into their conversation. "Inquisitor, good that you're herr! Rogers found something this morning, ma'am, that is quite alarming."
"Alarming how?" Astlyr asked, looking over the group trying to recall which one was Rogers. Finally a dwarf stepped forward. There were not many dwarves in Skyhold, but more had come when it was clear that there were jobs to be had. Especially surface dwarves, unwelcome in the subterranean city of Orzammar.
"Ma'am," the dwarf dipped his head in acknowledgment of being called upon by the inquisitor. "I was walking the walltops just this morning and I found that a section of the Northern wall is beginning to dip downwards. Now it is only a slight grade at the moment," he gestured for calm with his hands, though no one seemed inclined to panic. "I believe there may be a cave, or natural pocket, below that section of wall, which will eventually give way and cause the wall to fall into it...and subsequently off of it."
"Off of it?" Astlyr questioned, then she took a moment to visualize the north wall. Skyhold made an excellent military outpost because it perched atop an impassible cliff face on three sides. To siege the fortress an enemy would need the ability to fly, or he would have to come by way of Skyhold's southern main-gate. If the northern wall collapsed it would fall down, and down some more. Tumbling off of the mountain in a sheer drop, and likely further damaging the tenuous foundation of the fortress at the same time. "Well...shit," Astlyr muttered.
A young elven man spoke up, "If the wall were to collapse, it would likely take the guard tower with it as well at the very least. And perhaps a sizable chunk of the courtyard on that side."
"Maker's balls," Astlyr breathed. Some of the men chuckled. They liked it when she swore. It made her feel like one of them instead of an intimidating figurehead.
"We've still got time," Rogers the dwarf assured her. "We just need to get down there and find out exactly what sort of cave we're dealing with. Then we can decide what to do about the problem from there."
"Can we shore it up?" Astlyr questioned.
"Ma'am, I was born in Orzammar," Rogers gave her a sage look, folding his arms over his chest, and subsequently over his impressive beard, "and before I left I used to work with the repair and tunneling crews. I'll bet you surfacers thought we dwarves had stopped digging. Hah! For us, excavation is as natural as breathing."
"Get on with it!" someone called from the group. A laugh rippled through it and Rogers looked annoyed, but soldiered on.
"I know all about keeping tunnels and caves from collapsing, even if a darkspawn should take a fancy to having a raucous party down there." he wore a proud smile.
"Excellent. Glad we have you," Astlyr gave Rogers a resounding clap on his back, which almost toppled him completely. He gave her a hearty laugh, rubbing ruefully at his shoulder, "remind me never to make you angry ma'am. You happy is almost more than my poor old bones can bear."
"How do we get down to the cave?" asked one of the workmen, sounding uneasy. "Do we try to dig down from the inside?"
"Mayhap," Rogers said, scratching his bearded chin thoughtfully. "Now that I think on it, no one has ever seen the outside of that wall, have they? No one except the messenger birdies."
"So we climb down the wall to the cliff below and see what we can see?" Astlyr clarified, unable to keep the eagerness from her voice. She loved rock climbing, always had. She had no fear of heights and the thought of rappelling down to investigate a cave on a cliff-side sounded just like the sort of excitement she needed.
"You are right, indeed," said Rogers, grinning. Or at least she suspected he was. It was difficult to tell behind a mustache that would have made Dorian jealous.
"Gather the climbing gear and the necessary men we'll need," she said, grinning broadly herself. "We'll have this wall issue figured out in no time!"
****No lie, my favorite thing to write thus far has been Astlyr and Dorian bantering. Every strong leader needs a sassy gay friend! These two together, Maker help us! Sass levels are reaching new heights! Aaaaand what about this Cullen thing? Dun dun duuuuuuun! When I'm not tweaking the lore I am messing with LI's. I honestly meant to have her stick with Iron Bull, but man, she just doesn't fit with him. Even while I was playing the game they only ever seemed like an okay couple. Never a forever sort of thing.
What do you guys think? As always, feel free to share your thoughts :) I love hearing from you!
Next chapter: 2/26/15****